If New Orleans is sinking...

Those poor men, woman and children in New Orleans, and all of the other areas devastated by hurricane Katrina. If you pray, I hope you are praying for those people who have lost their loved ones, their homes, and/or all of their belongings.
Hearing about all of the people who have opened their homes and their hearts to those in need makes me happy. Hearing about surrounding hotels who have doubled their prices to benefit from other people's tragedy makes me sick.

If you want to help, contact the Red Cross. Everyone can do something... anything.

A Quiz

Now that fall is almost upon us, many of us seem to pack on a few extra pounds, to keep ourselves warm and slightly self conscious for the winter months ahead. I know that as women, we are often extra hard on ourselves when it comes to our physical appearances. We feel “fat” even when we aren’t. Our body images are warped. We obsess over clothing sizes. We tilt our full length mirrors back to make ourselves look taller and slimmer. Our sick relationships with food begin to make Pamela & Tommy Lee’s relationship look healthy. We lose perspective.

To help with this, my friend Chelsey and I came up with a helpful quiz, to determine whether or not we were indeed fat, or just being overly critical of ourselves. It is based on many years of scientific and psychological research, and I hope it will help put your mind at ease, as it did ours.

Are You Fat?

1. For a refreshing summer drink, you choose:

a) water
b) lemonade
c) melted butter

2. Your favorite animal is:

a) a chameleon
b) a butterfly
c) a deep fried horse covered with melted cheese

3. Your nickname as a child was

a) Half Pint
b) Pumpkin
c) Giantly Fat Bastard

4. At night, you prefer to sleep on:

a) a firm mattress
b) a waterbed
c) a pile of fried chicken

5. You like to wear your hair:

a) in different styles every month
b) short, to accentuate your cheekbones
c) long, to cover your enormous body

6. After eating a very large meal, you like to:

a) take a long walk
b) follow it up with a very large dessert
c) keep eating until you vomit, then eat it again

7. If you were a body of water, you would be:

a) a serene lake
b) a babbling brook
c) a giant ocean of gravy

8. Which of the following is the healthiest snack?

a) a carrot
b) a carrot dipped in chocolate
c) eleven thousand carrot cakes

9. You often have nightmares about:

a) drowning
b) falling
c) running out of chips


10. Your favorite celebrity is:
a. Madonna
b. Oprah
c. Aunt Jemima


To score yourself, as long as you don’t have all “C’s”, you are thin. And you get extra points if your answers spell out ABBA or ABACAB, because that is really neat.

After taking this quiz, we were relieved to discover that we were not fat, but just big boned. Especially the bones on our inner thighs and the bones that jiggle under our arms... and our love handle bones were slightly oversized too. Whew! Then we went out for cheesecake to celebrate our new healthy body images!

Flick Pick

The 40 Year Old Virgin was pretty funny. But then again, I would enjoy watching Steve Carell, Catherine Keener and Paul Rudd do anything. Anything. They would probably even be charming, witty and captivating while painting a fence or doing their taxes. 3.5/5 stars.

The next movie I see will be this. I'm dying of curiousity.

The time I was in jail

This is a true story. Unless you are Piper reading this, years from now, in which case... I’M JUST KIDDING HONEY, HAHAHA! HAHAHA HA. HA. Get it? Don’t ever drink.

To set the stage, I was 18, and still giddy from my discovery of alcohol, and all the boozy feelings it provided. Still glowing with the knowledge that you could do and say all sorts of idiotic things, then blame it one the drunkenness, and have it laughed off. Forgiven. Praised, even.

Four girlfriends and I had driven about an hour away to visit some friends at University and were ready to PARTY WOO HOO for the weekend! We passengers were already drinking coolers in the car, and most likely listening to Milli Vanilli or something of equal dancing value, just psyching ourselves up for the PARTY WOO HOO! We were quite pickled by the time we pulled up to the residence, and so the only thing to do was to get to the town bar immediately and drink MORE.

As far as I could tell, there was one main bar in this town, and the entire school congregated there. Everything is quite blurry to me after this point, but I vaguely remember puking in the bathroom, then stepping outside to get some air. It is possible that I was kicked out of the bar, but thank god, I do not recall. My next memory is of the police picking me up and driving me to the Drunk Tank, which was in the next town, about 10 miles away. Then a flash of talking to the “check-in” lady at the jail, who had a very becoming moustache. I may have commented on it, judging by how mean she was to me later. There was paperwork, etc.... all very blurry.

I woke up in a very cold cell, on a very hard steel bed, with no blanket, shoes, coat, or idea of where the hell I was. I was alone, and went to the window in the door and knocked on it. Moustache came to the window and asked “Yes? I asked her what time it was, where I was, etc. Apparently, it was 7am, and I would not be released into the free world until 10am. Because who knows what a hardened criminal like myself would DO out on the streets in those 3 hours- LOOK OUT EVERYONE!!!!! Then Moustache and I both looked at a small puddle of puke beside my bed, and she said, “Did you throw up?”
I looked her straight in the moustache and said, “No.”
I’ve never been a great liar.

When they finally released me, I realized what deep shit I was in. I was in a strange place, with no idea how to get home, and not a single red cent. All I had was my driver's license and severe liver damage. I went across the street to a coffee shop, and asked to use their phone, since I had no quarter for the pay phone. This was before everyone had cell phones, so I had no way of contacting my friends, (who I later found out were searching for me in a sick panic.)
I called a cab, and then had to beg and plead with the cab driver to drive me back to the University town to search for my friends, who I promised would have money to pay him. Of course, I couldn’t find the right residence, because I was already pissed when I arrived there. So I batted my bloodshot eyes, and tossed my golden locks (with a small streak of barf in the back) at the cabbie, and somehow convinced him to drive me an hour back home to Halifax, where I would go to a bank and pay him $60.

This man will be blessed, because I believe that what goes around comes around. And someone has got to pay this man forward to make up for the shitty experience that followed...

The cabbie had to keep pulling over all the way home, because I was still heaving up food that I had eaten 3 years prior to that night. PARTY WOO HOO!
When we were 5 minutes away from home, we passed by the Police Station where my dad worked as a Police Officer at the time, and I crouched down in my seat and said a silent prayer that he would not see me. As we passed by, I sighed with relief, just as a car slammed into the side of the cab in the middle of the intersection. Everything was in slow motion, as the windshield smashed, and the cab slid across the road. The cab was totaled, but we were both OK. More paperwork. I remember sitting in a strange couple’s kitchen, drinking tea, looking out their window at the accident, in complete shock. I don’t remember why I was in that house, it was like a Twilight Zone episode. I was probably hiding from my dad.

The police (not my dad)drove me to the bank, where I withdrew $60 to give to the cab driver. That poor guy. My god, I am still ridden with guilt for that poor guy. I hope he won the lottery or something. Then the police drove me home, and somehow, nobody saw me get out of the car. I was just waiting for a piano to fall on my head, but it never happened.

I clearly remember the smell of walking into the house. It was just before Christmas, and Mom was making chocolate rum balls. Dry heaving ensued. Since I had “the flu”, I went immediately to bed, awaking only to pray for the cabbie, and field phone calls from my hysterical friends.

The End.

Ps- Dad, did you know about this?

Laptop.Still.Broken

I'll.post.lots.when.it's.fixed...
In.the.meantime-
I've.posted.some.new.Flickr.pics.below.my.links.
Enjoy.

Also-
Go.listen.to."Fix.You".by.Coldplay.
It's.beautiful.beautiful.BEAUTIFUL.
I.picture.him.singing.it.to.his.daughter.

Fix You

when you try your best but you don't succeed
when you get what you want but not what you need
when you feel so tired but you can't sleep
stuck in reverse

and the tears come streaming down your face
when you lose something you can't replace
when you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse

lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you

and high up above or down below
when you're too in love to let it go
but if you never try then you'll never know
just what you're worth

lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you

tears stream down your face
when you lose something you cannot replace
tears stream down your face and ahhhh

tears stream down your face
i promise you i will learn from my mistakes
tears stream down your face and ahhhh

lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you

Crappity.Crap.Crap

I.need.some.technological.help!
My.poor.blog.is.broken.
My.page.layout.exploded.
Now.my.links.and.photos.are.gone.
A.black.hole.is.devouring.my.weblog.
S.O.S.

manthisreallysucks....

Piperbrokethespacebaronmycomputer,sonowIcanonlytypelikethis
untilit'sfixed.....veryfrustrating...sigh.....

I will be docking her pay

***


Well, yes, she may look like a good housekeeper, but she often shrinks my sweaters, and she doesn't do windows.

Also, she's been known to fall asleep on the job.

That Baby High

It seems that having a baby can be rather like having a serious drug addiction.
You cannot just have a baby "socially", and expect it not to take over your entire life. It infiltrates every single aspect- work, friendships, relationships. It puts a serious dent in your wallet- every dollar earned is a potential dollar towards baby clothes/toys/supplies. "Did you get the diapers? Oh my god, I have no diapers left! I NEED more diapers right NOW, man!!"" Your living quarters become strewn with baby paraphenalia. Your home becomes a pick up and drop off point for all kinds of children. Vomit becomes commonplace. It takes a serious toll on your body, some of the effects are permanent. You have bags under your eyes, and food becomes less important. And after getting used to the high of having one baby, you may begin to tell yourself, maybe you can handle TWO children. It could just snowball from there. See? Similar.

Except for one thing. With a serious drug addiction, you inevitably end up sick, miserable, often alone, with a destroyed life. With a baby, your life is enriched with more love and joy than you ever thought possible. Possibly with a destroyed house.

Gotta go get another hit of Piper...

Rock-a-bye Baby

I couldn't wind down and go to sleep last night, I was tired, but restless, and my racing mind would not let me drift off. So my darling husband sang me a sweet, sweet lullaby. It went a little something like this...

SNOOORE! SNORT! HOAUUUUURRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH! Grind Grind Crunch grind! HURHOOOOOOOAAAAGHHH! Snore!! SNORE!!!!!!grindgrindgrindgrind! SQUEAL! Crunch! SNORE!!! (frighteningly long silence, after which I check to see if he's still alive)
GAHK! COUGH COUGH! SNOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!! SNOOORE!!!

Sing along if you'd like! It's catchy, I know!

I hate to sleep on the couch, but preferred it to the ear piercing sounds of Robb's teeth being ground into mulch whilst snoring, choking and gagging.

I dreamt that I was swimming with friends (for fun!)in a very rough indoor river that went around in a circle, and it was hard to keep from going under. And it was beside a giant hot tub with man eating tigers roaming the perimeter. Fun!
*My analogy of this dream: I am very happy-go-lucky! With no worries or fears! Tra la la!

I Heart Summer

A good time was had by all this weekend in Pine Lake. We’ve been dragging Piper around the planet as often as possible since she was born, and it seems to please her. She was a fantastic traveler as usual, sleeping in the car, and loving every new experience. And not one of us had a meltdown or tantrum- yay us! And only one of us pooped our pants- yay again!
The cabin was cozy, with a great big deck & backyard, a hot tub, fire pit, lots of games, and a lake just 100 yards away. We fished, swam, boated, water skied, ate, drank, laughed, and even Trick or Treated.

A nearby campground hosts a Halloween every summer for the kids, and we happened to be there on that very spooky night, so we dressed up the kids, and dragged around that bat, pirate, and baby tiger, begging for candy until we couldn’t carry another freakin' tootsie roll. “I’n a fwoot bat!”, declared Aria. And Piper learned to say thank you. (“Dant Doo!”) There were about 200 campers participating, and gaggles of kiddies, and it was like one of those awesome Halloweens back when I was little, before people worried much about taking candy from strangers.

Tubing behind the speedboat was the most fun. I’m not sure when I laughed the hardest- being thrown around like a rag doll myself, or watching others do it. It provoked that really great kind of laughing, when you cackle so hard that it goes silent, and you start to drool. We were taking photos and videotaping the whole time, I’m sure there will be some beauties. Piper loved the boat too- head thrown back, open mouthed smile, as the wind rushed through her already tangled hair.
After Robb had been unable to get up on the waterskis a few times, our nephew Mac asked him, “Do you want me to take a picture of your failure, Uncle Robb?” and our neice added, “My cousin (8 yrs old) is better than you, Uncle Robb.” Sweet honesty.

And while we were away, pushing food and booze into our gullets, my friend Angela was trying to push an 8 lb, 12 oz boy out of her hoo-ha. Her lovely son was born on Saturday morning, I can't wait to see them!

I’m so sad that summer is almost over- it’s been really busy, but good busy. Fun busy. These are the days busy. Life is good.

ps- Watched "Kissing Jessica Stein" again the other night. It's one of my favorite movies.. so funny and clever and poignant. And I love when people write a movie and star in it themselves, a la "Good Will Hunting" and "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". I'd give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Will the Wizard give us some manners?

Please sing to the tune of “We’re off to see the Wizard”
from "The Wizard of Oz”

We’re off to spend the weekend
Away from the Calgary buzz
Robb’s sister and family have got a nice cabin
And we have invited ourselves!
If ever oh ever a lake there was
The piney Pine Lake is one because
Because because because because becaaaaaaaause!
Because it is free for the 3 of us!
(da-da-da-da-da-da-da-dah! kaploonk!)
We’re off to spend the weekend
Intruding on Ashley & Tooooooom!

Gotta go pack! Have a great weekend!

A True Tale from 1998

I was living in Los Angeles with my then boyfriend, who liked to eat my self esteem for breakfast. Well, actually, I did serve it up to him myself, with a hefty side of my pride and integrity... but that’s not really part of this story..

I was working at Warner Brothers Studios in the VIP Tours dept, as a VIP Tour Guide. I’m not sure why they dubbed it “VIP” because any hack off the street with $20 could take the tour. Unless you were in the “Stalkers who are Banned from the Lot” binder, which was quite fun to look through. The staff there was the most fun and interesting group of people I’ve ever worked with. We were all big fat show offs, and wannabe actors/writers/comics, who enjoyed putting on our daily shows for our captive audiences... it was great. We were all very small fish in a small bowl,(Sea Monkeys, if you will,) and we had a very cool topic on which to blah blah blah about. Movies! Stars! Television! Special Effects! Wardrobe! Editing! Foley! Props! The Backlot! Hollywood stories! Some of which we've made up! And so much more! Come one, come all!

The best part about the job was not the tours, but the time in between them, when we could explore the lot ourselves, and see some really cool filming, sets, and post production. And being a girl on the lot was a definite benefit, since most of the crew members were men. Since we had to get permission from Asssistant Directors, Security, Set Directors, etc..(who were mainly men) to bring tours to filming or to watch any cool happenings, we had a great advantage. I’ve gotten to watch some very cool movies and TV shows being made, been on amazing sets and seen some wild blue screen work. I remember a moment sitting in that big spider machine thingy from "Wild Wild West", ( a crappy movie, but neat experience nonetheless,) while watching crew members set up for Wil Smith’s video, and thinking, “This is better than waitressing.”

One time, another one of the tour guides, named Julia Roberts, (obviously not THE Julia Roberts),and I talked one of our buddy Security Guards into sneaking us into a season premiere party for the casts of Friends, Veronica’s Closet, and Jessie. Those last 2 shows featured Kirstie Alley and Christina Applegate. It was on the lot, and we were young and very unschooled in the world of celebrity parties. It was so weird standing on a very elaborate set, close to Christina Applegate, who I love, surrounded by big powerful movie executives, watching Matt LeBlanc make a group of girls giggle, while being served VERY boozy martinis. Surreal doesn’t begin to describe it. Unfortunately, soon after we arrived, I caught a glimpse of the unfamous Julia Roberts, who had clearly had too many pretty martinis herself, and was hanging messily off the arm of an important looking older woman, who was looking at her like a cockroach. Julia looked like she was entering her, “I love you, man... I really LOVE YOU!” stage of drunkenness, so I whisked her out of there as fast as I could, before we were both busted. About 5 minutes later in the parking lot, Ms Roberts was hurling up all of her martinis, and possibly some vital organs all over the pavement. Whew. It was such a close call.

The next day, during my first tour, while passing by the parking lot, I was tempted to point out The Vomit of Julia Roberts to my group... but I resisted. They would have just wanted to stop and look at it. We went and watched some ER filming instead.

The End.

ps- I want to send a shout out to the hilarious Ron Reeves, who now unbelievably has 3 little Ronlets! Maybe if you you Google yourself, you will find this. Ron, you made working at the Ol Dubya Bee so much fun, I miss you! I'm sorry that I stole your book, "Confederacy of Dunces"... I didn't lose it, I just really wanted it.

It's Over

Dear Bill Murray,

I'm sorry, but I am breaking up with you. I want to see other actors in better films. It's not me, it's you.

PLEASE! Let me finish...

I went to see "Broken Flowers" tonight with my husband, and we were giddy with anticipation to see your film. We skipped to the theatre, thinking that we were about to be dazzled with a movie that echoed the brilliance of "Lost in Translation", "Rushmore", or "The Royal Tennenbaums". We were mistaken, Bill Murray, and you have made asses out of us both. You seduced us with your wonderful cast and enticing movie trailer. But alas, those promises you made were empty. Your movie was like sitting through a 2 hour car ride, with very little scenery, and ending up at the same place we started. I won't worry about giving away the ending, because there WAS NO ENDING.

SSSHHHHHHHHH! one more thing, Bill Murray....

I will always love you, in a way, Bill Murray, but it is most definitely over between us, (us being you, me, and Robb,) and I think it's best if we don't speak for a while. I feel very disappointed and used, and I have some healing to do...


Sincerely,

a girl who you will never know even existed, and wouldn't care anyway,

Eve

A Lil Game

(This was stolen from Martha's blog.)

Put your name in my comments, and I'll respond with something random about you.


1) I'll tell you what song or movie reminds me of you.

2) I'll pick a color/flavor of jello to wrestle with you in.

3) I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.

4) I'll tell you my first memory of you.

5) I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.

6) I'll ask you something I've always wondered about you.


(I may have to make some of this up, if I don't have an answer. Bear with me.)

Wonderful Weekend Wedding in the Woods (WOO WOO!)

Ashley & Tom had the most beautiful wedding, it was so warm, loving and relaxed, exactly like them. We all stayed at the Island Lake Lodge, on a mountain near Ferney, British Columbia, at the top of an 8 mile long winding dirt road, in the middle of the wilderness. We were surrounded by nature at it’s finest, animals everywhere, fresh air, quiet. The log cabins were so gorgeous and very comfy. The outdoor hot tub overlooked the forest and mountains. The food was excellent, the staff was friendly and helpful. They even provided an adorable babysitter to stay in our room to watch over Piper as she slept, so we could party like childless rock stars at night. Everything about the place was fantastic.

The ceremony took place in a clearing in the woods, by a lake, overlooked by the mountains. And the clouds formed little poufy white hearts in the blue, blue sky.. almost. It was so peaceful and lovely, with about 65 guests. Ashley looked beautiful, as usual, Tom looked handsome, and the whole damn wedding party was hot. In an attempt to make me cry, they wrote their own vows. I was successfully holding back my tears, until Tom started to recite his vows to Ashley’s son and daughter, also promising to love and honor THEM forever, etc... A very low blow. Anyone with dry eyes at that point clearly did not have a soul.

The reception was even more fun, Robb and I were MC’s, and it was a silly and light hearted evening of laughter and happy tears. Ashley’s 8 yr old son Mac sang “What a Wonderful World” for Tom & Ash in the sweetest voice imaginable! Mac is destined for greatness, I swear. Instead of the typical clinking of the glasses for the Bride and Groom to kiss, they provided a bag with everyone’s names in it. Throughout the night, people had to draw a name from the bag, and kiss that person. Ashley & Tom had to kiss exactly the same way as those people kissed. Ashley's 6 yr old daughter Aria was the kissing Nazi, and would sweetly force people to draw names against their will to perpetuate the smooching. As the evening progressed, and the wine disappeared, the kissing became less reserved and more creative. It was a hilarious way for everyone to get to know each other. (I did feel a bit weird macking on a very pregnant total stranger, but we both got over it.) We danced and rejoiced until about 3am. The wedding singer was also unbelievable- a young guy from Calgary named Ben Rose. This 22 yr old kid was so very talented, just a guitar and his voice- he could sing country, jazz, swing, soft rock, and hard rock – everything from Madonna to ACDC and make it sound better than the original. He filled the room and rocked us old farts like we'd never been rocked before. Truly, my body was aching the next day from all of the gyrating and fun-having. (We’re trying to get him to perform at our bar soon...)

And now, view the wedding pictures on the left... I'm still waiting for the better pics to be sent to me...

Never call someone huge

It's late and I can't sleep because I have the flu and feel so very vile right now.

I will post all about Tom and Ashley's magnificent wedding once I get the pictures from everyone, and can tell the tale properly.

All I can think about lately is pregnancy. Because my daughter is at such a fun and adorable age, she is making me want to reproduce like bunnies, and have a dozen little Pipers skittering around our home. Also, my sister-in-law Lindsay is seven months pregnant, and so gorgeous it hurts my eyes. She makes me want to put a pillow under my shirt and go maternity jeans shopping. My friend Ang is about to give birth any moment, and I can remember the incomparable excitement and anticipation of that time in my life. My dear friend Marcie is in her second trimester, and is such a role model parent to me. And also, blogger extrordinaire Tina is newly pregnant, and how thrilling is that stage??!! Very!!! Basically, every woman in North America is pregnant right now except for me. We're not really trying to get me knocked up yet, but I still think about it a lot.

Before I had a baby, I'm sure that I've uttered some, if not all of these words, but I swear to God that I never will again...

WHAT NOT TO SAY TO A PREGNANT WOMAN

1. You are HUGE! It's shocking how many people will say this, regardless of your size. I only gained 25 pounds, which is not a lot for a woman carrying another human in her torso, but I still heard this comment constantly. I wasn't even wearing maternity clothes a lot of the time. It still pisses me off...

(*NOTE* It's not so much the comment, as the fact that you will hear this comment several times a day, every single blessed day, for months and months. It just turns into Chinese water torture. After hearing it for the seven millionth time, my standard response to "You are huge!" became, "Why THANK YOU! What a SWEET thing to SAY!")

2. Birth HORROR stories. I get it. Childbirth is difficult, painful, traumatic. Got it. Sagas of eight thousand vaginal stitches and 16 lb babies are NOT supportive or helpful. Tell a different story, please.

3. Warnings that you'd better sleep now because once the baby comes, you will NEVER sleep again. It's just not true. Why do people say this? Why? And for the record, I've never NOT been able to bathe or shower for days and days, which was another stupid warning I'd heard many times.

4. All unsolicited advice, warnings, snarky comments, old wives' tales, urban legends, etc.. Seriously.. do unto others, OK?

THINGS TO SAY INSTEAD

1. You look beautiful/amazing/happy/incredible. Compliment hair/outfit/skin. Try not to stare too much at the tummy and tits. I know it's like an eclipse, but you CAN do it.

2. Childbirth is the most exciting thing in the world. Nothing else is as intense and joyful. The positives outway the negatives so much, it is ridiculous. I found that reading ten million birth stories did help prepare me a bit though.

3. Your life will be enriched. You will be tired, but happy. Busy, but fulfilled. Less selfish, more focused. Less spontaneous, but more compassionate. Your baby will become the center of your worlds in such a beautiful and fun way. Watching your partner become a parent will probably make you fall in love with them all over again. Everything will have more meaning.

4. Give realistic advice if it is asked for or welcomed. Be sensitive. Pregnant woman have feelings- often more than non-pregnant people. Often more than 50 non-pregnant people. With hormones, for her pleasure.

At least, that has been my experience. But, everyone's experience is different, and that's why yours is so special.

Oldies but goodies

Here are a few of my favorite blog posts of all time.

This is brilliant. I bow down to Alice, she is the goddess of all words.

Scroll down to "for those about to blog" to read the most accurate account of Blogging neurosis ever, by Sheila Callaghan.

This is the funniest contest. Shane should be in charge of games for all of the world.

Well, Tina really knows how to tell a story. They are all good, but I love this one.

This is just one of many excellent tales from Motherhood is not for Wimps.

I cannot pick one favorite post from Heather or Melissa, because when I open their sites, I am dumbfounded and blinded by the comedy. Quit your job, go read them all, and choose your own favorite.

I Got You, Babe.

We are heading out for the weekend to this beautiful place for my sister-in-law's wedding. It will be spectacular, and many pictures will be taken.
Since Robb and I are the "Sonny & Cher" of the family, we will be acting as the Emcees, as well as the Wedding Coordinators and Music Managers. Piper is the Flowerbaby, and I am just trying not to eat her dress before the ceremony, it is that cute. Maybe I will just nibble a bit on the crinolin, to curb that urge. She was supposed to wear a little pink jeweled headband, but I've eaten that already.

Must go think of amusing anecdotes and coordinating outfits. Be back next week.

Until then...

Two blondes were stargazing and talking on a warm Calgary evening...
Blonde#1: Which do you think is closer to us, Vancouver or the moon?
Blonde#2: Duh! The moon, of course!
Blonde#1: Why do you say that?
Blonde#2: Well, can YOU see Vancouver?

Beauty is only skin deep

The other day, I saw a girl walking down the street, and she was orange. She was clearly coming from her latest tanning bed appointment, and most likely heading straight to her next tanning bed appointment. This girl was crayon orange... like, "I've eaten nothing but carrots and carrot juice for 3 months" orange... I'm talking "I live on a nuclear testing site in my plutonium house and"... well, you get the picture.

Because I have the complexion of an albino who lives underground, I am definitely not averse to tanning beds. In the dead of winter, when my summery, off-white colouring has faded into a paler shade of white, and all of my blue veins and arteries are showing through my nearly translucent skin, I do occasionally visit the tanning salon. But exactly how many minutes into your tanning package do the UV rays burn out your ability to differentiate between a normal human shade of skin, and a colour normally found in flowers and rainbows, and ORANGES???? Is it 100 minutes... 80 billion minutes???! What was this girl's ultimate goal? To be a deep and disturbing shade of burnt pumpkin?

The only thing harder to understand would be the women who wear harsh dark lipliner that is eight shades darker than their lip colour. Like a big black Sharpie mark around their lips, ever so subtly declaring, HERE ARE MY LIPS!! RIGHT HERE!!! SEEE??!!! There are people wandering this planet right now who think that is an attractive way to apply makeup. Mary Kay would weep. I am not a beauty consultant, but I've always operated under the assumption that makeup should delicately enhance your features, and look natural, and most importantly, you should not be able to see your lipliner from space. I read it in Cosmo.

So tonight, I will pray for these women, that they may see the error of their ways. Because deep down, underneath their microwaved orange skin and clown faces, they are probably very beautiful people. Waaayyyy down in there.

Words of Wisdom

I am a first time mother, and I realize that I still have a lot to learn, but this much I do know:

1. Do not start a game with a toddler unless you are willing to play said game at least 2,467 times...in a row... each day. Believe me, opening the fridge, getting a grape, and closing the fridge may sound like a rip roaring fantastic time, but after 3 hours, even THAT much excitement becomes torturous.

2. Do not teach your baby to shake her head "no", unless you want that to be her response to everything that comes out of your mouth. Now I can ask her, "Do you want Elmo himself to carry you to Disneyworld and eat ice cream all day while watching Dora do somersaults just for YOU?" And she would vehemently shake her head "no" until her eyes started bobbing and jiggling like Cookie Monster's.

3. A $200 battery powered, light flashing, noise making super toy will never ever be as much fun as your car keys, or a $2 spatula.

4. Whatever goes in must come out, mixed with evil and vileness. Before you offer your baby a bite of what you are eating, or let her eat three thousand raspberries, consider whether or not you want to deal with the diapered consequences later. Moderation is important.

5. There are no words to describe the perfection of your freshly bathed baby's skin. The delicious scent of her neck is the best smell on earth. Gaze. Breathe it all in. Memorize it.

6. Sesame Street is the best kid's show, hands down. Since the kiddie songs you hear will be involuntarily crazy glued into your head, be ye wary of which ones you listen to. Better Elmo than Barney. From my lips to God's ears.

Forgive me

My darling girl- I had just taken your shorts off for a moment, to wring the juice out of them, when I was reminded again why I don't let you roam the house wearing ONLY a diaper.

Squeak, THUMP, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

In the 2 minutes it took for me to clean up your breakfast, you had removed your diaper, (of course,) peed on the hardwood floor, (how is it possible for tiny little you to have a bladder that large?) then slipped and fell in it. I'm sorry that I laughed. Oh, how I laughed and laughed. Please do not take it personally, I would laugh at anyone who slipped on their own urine, even your father. Of course, in that case it would be a nervous, uncomfortable laugh, but a laugh just the same.

It is just too difficult to NOT laugh all day long when you are doing the most adorable, ridiculous, monkey-like things. Like when you furrow your brow, point and tap your finger on the dog's nose, while giving him a stern lecture of "GAH BAH DAH BAH!!!" like a little dictator. Or when you give big fat MMMMWWAAAAAAH kisses to every. single. thing. in the house. Or when you try to unlock the front door with the car keys to get OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW and shriek like a howler monkey when it doesn't work. You can only hold so much laughter inside before internal bleeding occurs.

But still, I am sorry for laughing when you fell. I did smother you with kisses afterwards.. after I'd hosed you off. You sweet monkey.


A tiny woman with a car, a purse, and a plan

Dear Piper

I hope that many years down the road, after you and I have finished with the many hardships and battles that will unavoidably accompany the toddler, pre-teen and teenager phases, that we will come out of it as close and in love as we are right now. After you have that epiphany that every young adult has when they realize, "Holy shit! My parents are actually people, and have their own lives, thoughts, feelings and used to be young once themselves!" I hope that you can read my blog.

I want you to read about how you have lit up my life every single day since March 9, 2004. Actually, even before that, when you wiggled and kicked and hiccuped in my belly.. even then, you filled me with joy. Every morning, no matter how tired, sick, or lazy I feel, when I hear you BAH BAH BAH-ing in your room, I get little butterflies at the thought of seeing you. I look so forward to opening your bedroom door, and saying "Hi, beautiful girl!", and you grinning and pointing at me, as we do every morning. I think to myself, "ThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyou to God for letting me love you, and be loved by you."

The Reason I must have another baby

I was just sitting here fantasizing about eating cherries, (thanks to Kathryn,) when my fabulous sister Michie dropped by, and plopped a grocery bag on my counter. "Here," she said, in her fabulous Michie way, "I had a bunch of cherries in my fridge that I don't want to go bad." Not only is she a thoughtful and generous human, but she and I basically share a brain and laugh like hyenas constantly when we're together, AND she reads my mind.
I've gotta get Piper one of those.

Having one of my little sisters here in Calgary is such a gift to me. We're always giving each other helpful advice, like, "Be sure to eat for an hour before you go swimming!" or "LEAN into it, keep your legs straight and lift with your back!" and "Hindsight is 50/50!" Sisters watch out for each other like that.

Let's hear it for the Boy

Ever have one of those friends who you know you would be lost without? That one special friend who you go to first with your very good news and your horribly bad news? The friend that always supports you, even if they don't agree with everything you say/think/imagine? The one who says sweet things about you behind your back, and calls you for no reason other than to say they are thinking about you, love you, or to see if you want a coffee or ice cream?
I married mine.



And look at that baby drool on his shoulder. I mean, REALLY! Could he be any sexier? Hot damn!

A Pox on all you Chickens!

My poor monkey has the chicken pox. I can't believe I held her down in a Doctor's office and let a student nurse repeatedly jam an immunization SWORD into her leg for nothing. Why is it called the Chicken Pox? That sounds like a witch doctor put a curse on her, that she may wander the earth sprouting feathers in embarrassing places and spontaneously shooting out eggs, as punishment for stealing potatoes from the school marm's garden. It should just be called the "Welt Measles" or "The Itchies" or something more appropriate.

Speaking of unfitting names for things- who came up the the word balaclava? Clearly, it should be called a thief cap. The word balaclava should be reserved to define a party or gala at which baklava is served.

Beautiful Girl

This picture just makes me melt- the curls, the tongue, the smiley eyes. God, I love her. Looking at her face makes my heart swell up like the Grinch's at the end of the movie.
It's not centered because she was running towards me to grab the camera. Always on the move, it's a perfect portrait of her.

Oh Happy Day!

Oh joy! Oh bliss! The landscapers have just put GRASS down in our front yard, and made a little GARDEN in front of our porch with 4 lovely little trees in it! I am overwhelmed with the green leafy lushness of it all! After living amongst dirt piles for 3 months, I feel like I am in a rainforest! I can't wait to plant some flowers and such!
And also! Not 10 minutes after the planting was done, the skies opened up and POURED rain onto my beautiful new greenery! And the grass drank it all up and smiled. Aaaahhhhhh! Now our entire street is filled with trees, both new and wonderfully old.